When I wrote yesterday’s post on being right, I had not yet purchased, much less begun to read, Marilynne Robinson’s collection of essays, When I Was a Child I Read Books, but I got to work early and the Yale Bookstore is next door . . . . I sat down this morning and read…
One of the items on my bucket list is to attend a TED (Technology Education Design) Conference. By now, I imagine most of you are acquainted with TED talks and the variety of subjects they cover. I find them inspirational and challenging. TED 2016 begins today. I wish I were there. In the days we…
We all came down the stairs this morning comparing the temperature readings on the weather apps on our phones: -1, -4, and -6 degrees, depending on the app. Though the numbers varied, the conclusions were the same: it was cold. Really cold. We ate breakfast and bundled up for the fifty foot walk from the…
My mode of travel for my commute to the computer store in New Haven depends on my vacillating schedule. If I go in early and come home early, I can take the train, which is a twenty minute ride along the shoreline of the Long Island Sound and then a walk of a little less…
Pick up any good book on writing and somewhere early in the description of the process the author will say you can’t write well if you are not reading good stuff. One article I read recently even quantified it: read a thousand pages for every one you write. I’m not sure I can live up…
“Teach us to number our days so that we can have a wise heart.” Psalm 90:12 (CEB) I can’t read that verse without hearing the piano introduction to “Seasons of Love” from the musical RENT, followed by the voices: five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes five hundred twenty five thousand moments so dear…
One morning as I sat with my mother in hospice I received a text from Sarah, who pastors alongside of Ginger here in Guilford, asking a question: “What is your word or song for today?” That first day I answered only with a song: “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.” The next day the words was…
the last time you showed up, I didn’t know what to expect. you kicked in the door, filled the room with a dead chill . . . surprise attack: a stroke, a call, a funeral; and then miles of ache and absence, but not this time. she made choices; we made choices. we had days…
Here are the words I spoke at my mother’s funeral: When my father died, I adapted a poem I had written for him a few years earlier, which allowed me to tell his story, express my feelings, and get through the whole thing without breaking down here at the podium. To my disadvantage today, I…
I have been in Texas for almost three weeks. My mother entered hospice care on January 2 and died on January 15. Here is her obituary. Barbara Schultz Cunningham of Waco, Texas died on January 15, 2016 of kidney failure. She was eighty-four. She is survived by her two sons: Milton Brasher-Cunningham (and his wife,…